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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701298">Once in a Blue Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterclaw/pseuds/counterclaw'>counterclaw</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Feeding, Fluff, M/M, Sickfic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:28:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25701298</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/counterclaw/pseuds/counterclaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Six gets sick for the first time since he can remember. Luckily, Gran's there to take care of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gran/Six | Seox (Granblue Fantasy)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Once in a Blue Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Mmmmrh,” Six moaned, rolling over in bed as he pulled the blankets more tightly around himself. No matter what he did, the horrible chill seemed to persist through the thick layer of blankets he’d rolled into a cocoon. He had never felt so cold in his life. </p><p>Being sick wasn’t a normal occurrence for him; in fact it was more of a perverse miracle in of itself. Six had been told time and time again that he possessed a body of incredible fortitude, so him catching as much as a cold was about as common as the Eternals gathering willingly. (They’d done so maybe once since the group’s formation years ago.) </p><p>Speaking of whom, he had to remind himself he’d already made sure to tell Gran not to let any of the Eternals know he was sick. The thought of some frivolous get-well party frankly revolted him - he wasn’t in the mood to see anyone, and he had a feeling none of the Eternals were in the mood to see him, either. He especially didn’t want them to see him miserably wrapped in blankets with a red, runny nose. </p><p>Restless, he tossed and turned for a few minutes before giving up on sleep and sitting up, resting his back against the headboard. He pulled another blanket around his shoulders so that he resembled a disheveled caterpillar slumped over pathetically. </p><p>Then came the sneezing. Once, twice, three times without so much as a second’s pause in between. Miserably, he reached for the tissue box on his nightstand and blew his nose, tossing the wadded tissue haphazardly into the corner. He felt too sick and tired to particularly care where it landed. He’d pick it up later. </p><p>The door creaked open quietly and Six caught sight of a familiar blue hooded sweatshirt as Gran backed into the room, a heavily laden tray in his arms. One eyebrow raised, Six watched him carefully make his way across the room before setting the whole thing down on his side of the bed next to Six. </p><p>It took only one look for Six to realize Gran had gone far beyond what he’d expected. When Gran had offered to go down to the Grandcypher’s galley to make Six something special for breakfast since he was sick, he’d expected a simple rice porridge with some meat and herbs mixed in. Well, that was there - ever since Six had learned the recipe from Ladiva, it had become a staple in the couple’s sick menu. Even though Six was usually cooking it since he was never the sick one. Gran was always the one coming home sneezing or burning up. </p><p>It was however accompanied by a small stack of toasted bread with butter and jam, a pot of tea and some small cups, some dry cereal with milk, several pieces of ripe fruit, a small pile of neatly iced breakfast pastries. As he finished surveying the food, Six glanced upward to see Gran scratching the back of his head sheepishly. </p><p>“I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I got, uh,” Gran trailed off. </p><p>“Everything?” Six finished for him, the beginnings of a smile twitching at the corners of his lips. Gran nodded, his cheeks a light shade of pink. At the sight, Six could no longer help the quiet snort that escaped his nostrils not akin to yet another sneeze. </p><p>It amazed Six how Gran could be so thoughtful in such a clumsy way. The display just further served to drive home just how much he really cared for Six. It was rather endearing in its own slightly bumbling sense, but thanks to it Six was finding he didn’t particularly hate being fussed over every once in a while. That didn’t mean he didn’t have his boundaries, though. </p><p>Six reached out from his nest of blankets and selected a piece of toast, half-heartedly taking a nibble. His stomach felt as though it wouldn’t fit anything larger than a pea, but he felt he should at least try to eat something. He’d told Gran the same thing time and time again, but only now did he truly understand the captain’s refusal to eat while he was sick. </p><p>To his surprise, Gran picked up a spoon and the bowl of porridge, scooting a little closer to Six on the bed. He took a small spoonful and offered it to Six, who immediately felt his cheeks flush hot with embarrassment.</p><p>“I...I don’t need you to feed me,” Six muttered darkly, staring off to the side. The pillowcase next to him had never looked so interesting; Six had already busied himself observing the blank, patternless white cloth when Gran spoke up.</p><p>“Open uuuup~” Gran drew the syllable out in that childish manner that made Six feel silly every time he obliged to a request Gran made in that voice.</p><p>The spoon met tightly closed lips. </p><p>“What’s wrong? Is it too hot?” Six almost felt a twinge of guilt as a concerned look crossed Gran’s face. </p><p>“N...No. I said I can feed myself,” Six muttered, though from the look in Gran’s eyes he could tell he might as well have said “Feed me”. </p><p>“C’mon. Humor me just this once,” Gran wheedled as though attempting to coax Six down from a tree. After a couple of awkward moments, Gran set the spoon down - though his expression had changed. “All right, you want to know the truth?” Gran paused, looking awfully like he wanted to cram his words back down his throat. “I felt guilty that you’re always the one taking care of me. I know, it’s not fair for me to compare myself to you,” he continued, as though he knew how Six would’ve countered his statement had he been given the chance. “So when you got sick, I kinda jumped at the opportunity to be the one to take care of you for a change. That’s why I went out of my way to get all this,” he trailed off, vaguely gesturing at the tray beside them. </p><p>The awkward silence returned with a vengeance - but knowing now how Gran felt, Six supposed he would’ve done the same. </p><p>Six swallowed his pride. “Go ahead.” </p><p>Baffled, Gran looked up in surprise. “What?”</p><p>“You can...feed me. I promise I won’t resist this time.” Six concluded his statement with as best a nod as he could manage given his current situation with the blankets. </p><p>“You’re sure? I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to.”</p><p>“It’s a bit too late for that,” Six mumbled. </p><p>To his surprise, Gran’s cheeks had taken on their normal pinkish hue and his face had that kind of puckered quality as though he were holding back laughter. “Was...was that a joke? From Six, the Pitch-Black Punisher?” At the mention of his temporary ring name, Six felt his cheeks blaze as though someone had lit a bonfire in each. </p><p>“Just get to it before I change my mind.” Six straightened up, opening his mouth ever so slightly to allow the spoon to maneuver between his lips. </p><p>And that Gran did, all the way up until the spoon scraped against the bottom of the empty bowl.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The porridge is a nod to what my mom makes whenever one of us gets sick at home :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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